


Closer

by cadaveres



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Other, Romance, it's canon because i say so, let them develop a relationship pls, like a painfully slow and shy relationship, thank you, this is just my take of 7 minutes in heaven but with anxiety and sensory overload
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 02:32:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16904436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadaveres/pseuds/cadaveres
Summary: Inquisitor Lavellan has always found crowds unnerving, pairing this with court intrigue and Orlesian politics is definitely not a good idea. Hiding in a utilities closet is one way to cope with the sensory overload.Prompt: A and B are forced to hide in a small, enclosed space. There is very little room between each other; they are so close, too close.





	Closer

**Author's Note:**

> For DA Drunk Writing Circle.

“Crowds.” They struggled with the buttons of their red and gold regalia, failing miserably at regaining control over their shaken hands and trembling breath. Moments ago they had found themselves with the bizarre realization that not a thing of the wretched place was real, not the dimmed down lights, not the masked faces that turned to face them with every step and turn they took. With this realization, came the notion that everything was far too loud, far too bright and colorful and warm.

They slipped through one of the servant’s doors, conveniently hidden behind empty, unsupervised corridors. They followed the silence, away from the prying masks and stifled laughter, the muffled music on the background, the lights threatening to blind them.

“Blast it. The lot of them.” They found refuge in a broom closet, small enough to not be found as easily, big enough to fumble with buttons and ribbons. They were sweating, droplets accumulating on their brows, atop their lips, and the palm of their hands. The top, finally undone, fell to the floor, followed suit by them. 

The inside of the utility closet much more comfortable than the thought of tiptoeing around insufferable shems; they lit the small oil lamp hanging from the wall with a spark of fire, withdrawing their hands and pulling back at their magic the moment they saw it escape the tip of their fingers. A breath in, raspy and painful. A shaky breath out. Pushing back loose strands of hair with the palm of their hand, wiping off the sweat on their brows, they contemplated the use of magic, if only they knew a soothing spell. No doubt there were templars within the range, and no amount of influence would help them out of being found inside a broom closet attempting to cast unfamiliar spells. 

Breathing exercises had never really helped, but were at least enough to keep their mind off from the gathering crowd, although not enough to keep the tears from stinging their eyelids. _Why here, of all places?_ they wondered, reaching for the red and gold regalia and burrowing their face against the fabric, muffling their sobbing.

A soft knock on the door made their skin crawl. They were quick to muffle the yelp and they held their breath, hitching painfully behind their throat. They did not move. Did not make a sound. Eyes glued to the door and body to the floor.

He was quick to notice, their eyes had glazed over, focused on things that were not there; yet, he kept at a distance, knowing well enough that two elves in fine clothes were enough to attract attention. It was a spirit that offered their location and he took the opportunity of the distraction offered Cole, who had decided to show himself to the eyes of a very easily started courtier. 

He was quick with his fingers, a small flourish of them unlocked the door, and he entered the room. From their slouched position, they stared at him, draped in the same red and gold as the one that they had pressed against their face. He did not say a word, instead only offering his hand and, upon it being stared down for what seemed like an eternity, resorted to sitting down next to them. 

“S-sorry.” He offered only a small smile and silence as a response, a much welcomed response. The Inquisitor loosened its grip on the top of the regalia, letting their head rest against their knees. “Was I gone for too long?”

He shook his head and extended his hand to ask for theirs, which they reluctantly offered. He traced warmth from the tips of his fingers, extending his magic from their own tips to their arms, chest, and head. They breathed out, a long sigh of relief. They sat in silence, content with the stillness that settled inside them, but with the renewed sense of realness that had crept in between that moment, they noticed they had held on to his hand for too long. 

They withdrew, quickly holding back onto the fabric of the top and pressing against wrinkles, minding themselves with little things so as to not draw the attention from him. 

“I hope I did not undo what peace I helped bring?” He chuckled, knowing well enough the bundle of nervousness and inadequacy that they could be in situations like this. Their response was to glue their eyes to the floor and a rush of red tinted their cheeks. “I apologize.” He slowly rose from his spot, offering his hand once more. They reluctantly held onto him as he helped them up, the warmth of his touch still welcoming and pulling at their magic with his own. Standing before him, they realized how close they really were, how small the broom closet had been, and how easily they could reach up to his lips,less that one step away. They fumbled again with buttons and ribbons, a distraction that did not help at all.

He could feel their breath against what little skin he had exposed and a small sigh escaped his lips before he could stifle it. He reached his hand towards the buttons they had been struggling with, slowly latching them in place, eyes now glued to theirs, occasionally looking down to their lips. 

“Thank-” He breached the gap, lips pressing softly against theirs and parting only slightly, catching his breath at the sight of them under the dim light. They were too close, perhaps close enough for comfort and calmness, a thing they would both later regret.


End file.
